


Untouchable

by kelex



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Times, Holiday, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 07:32:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/795475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelex/pseuds/kelex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Jim and Blair prepare for a mandatory Policeman's Halloween Ball, their preparations slowly bring them closer and closer together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untouchable

## Untouchable

by Kel

Author's website:  <http://crystalshard24.tripod.com/sentinelindex.html>

I think we all know the drill by now. They don't belong to me, and never will unless I start sleeping with all the right people. Making no money, I just do it for kicks. :)

Thanks to Bonnie May for your infinite patience, and also to Patt, truly a saint for putting up with the unending questions and nit picks that would have driven me crazy   


The Untouchables is a movie starring Kevin Costner and Sean Connery as Eliot Ness and James Malone, respectively. Yes, Armani really did the costuming. And yes, James Malone did carry a St. Jude's medallion. St. Jude is the patron saint of children, lost causes, and police, though the last two are not mutually exclusive. 

* * *

Untouchable  
By Kel 

"I hate costume parties," were the first words out of Ellison's mouth. 

//As if I didn't expect that...// thought Simon to himself. //The kid looks ready to bust a gut.// "I don't care," was the captain's response. "They're not exactly my favorite things either, but _mandatory_ means everyone goes. And yes, Sandburg, that means you too, because you have departmental credentials," he said, holding up a hand to stem Blair's energetic reaction. "Oh, and Jim?" 

"Yes, sir?" 

"I'll pick you up at eight." Simon gave his friend a smirk that said //No way out of it now.// 

Jim's sigh was audible in the bullpen. "Understood, sir." He followed Blair, who was doing an almost Tigger-like bounce on his heels. "You're certainly sickeningly enthusiastic about this whole thing," Jim observed. 

"Oh, man, are you kidding me? I love costume parties! You get to dress up in weird clothes, pretend to be someone you're not, and hang out with a bunch of other people doing the exact same thing! It's... it's kind of like a modern day Kachina dance. We... we... we dress up as the people we worship--public figures, movie stars, cartoon characters--instead of our ancestor spirits, and we do a sort of ceremonial homage to them." Blair could tell that Jim had stopped listening. "Jim?" 

"Oh, sorry, Darwin, I tuned out when you started talking about Kachina dancers." He gave Blair a smile to let the Guide know he was teasing. "I heard you." 

"Right, the ears," Blair nodded. "Anyway, I was thinking--you could dress up like a tribal Sentinel and I could dress up as your Guide. And man, we gotta get a pumpkin--I carve a mean jack-o-lantern." Blair grinned. "We can sit it in the window overlooking the bay," he continued. "Put a candle in it." 

"Have a boat wreck on the shore mistaking your pumpkin creation for a lighthouse," Jim interrupted, holding the downstairs door open for Blair as they walked out. "Chief, I don't _do_ Halloween." 

"I know. C'mon, Jim, give it a try. It's not like I'm asking you to deal with trick or treaters, just a pumpkin in the window!" He turned his big blue puppy eyes on Jim. 

Jim sighed as he got into the driver's seat. //If I didn't love you...// "All right! You can have your pumpkin--a _small_ one," Jim emphasized as he started up the truck. 

Blair grinned widely but stayed quiet until Jim got out on the road. "Hey, Jim? You, uh, you know what else goes with Halloween?" 

Jim cut that thought off. " _No_ cats, Chief! Naomi's sage was bad enough--that lingered for three weeks! All I need is a constant source of hair and dander--" 

"Jim, I'm not talking about a cat! You're too sensitive and the animal shelters would never adopt one out this close to Halloween anyway! No, man, I'm talking costumes! Now, you didn't like my Sentinel idea but I got more where that came from." 

"How about I dress up as a detective?" 

"Ooh, Holmes and Watson, that'd be great!" Blair desperately wanted a costume that he could share with Jim. //If I can't have love, I'll take his friendship and guard it with my life.// 

"I was thinking more along the lines of.... Ellison and Sandburg." 

"Man, you are _no_ fun!" Blair pouted. "Well, how about Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid?" 

Jim snorted. "Paul Newman I'm not." 

//I'll debate you on that later,// Blair mused. "What about Stanley and Livingston?" he suggested, taking a water bottle out of his backpack and opening it as he talked. 

//Maybe the paired costumes aren't such a bad idea.// "Pinky and the Brain?" offered Jim. 

Blair choked on his first sip, spewing it over the windshield and dash. "Jim!!" 

"Sorry, Chief." Jim couldn't hide the laughter. 

"No you're not!" accused Blair. "I'm dripping here!" 

//If you're not, I am,// Jim thought wryly, adjusting himself unseen. "Is it my fault you can't control your bodily functions?" he asked, still sniggering. "We're almost home, you can dry off and we'll talk over dinner." 

"Jim, I don't feel like cooking. Can we pick up stir fry at Golden Wall?" 

Jim looked over at Blair. "Are you sick?? Where's Blair Sandburg, what have you done with him? He would _never_ ask for takeout!" 

"Smartass. I just don't want to cook, that's all," he said, digging for his cell phone. "What's the number?" 

Jim tossed Blair his cell phone instead. "Here, use mine, it's speed dial 10." 

"You have the Chinese restaurant on speed dial?" Blair repeated, unbelieving. "Two orders of chicken stir fry, Lo mein noodles, and a bowl of wonton soup, right?" 

"Right, and get an extra order of the sesame honey crunchy noodle things--I love those," Jim added as Blair dialed and then placed the order. 

"Fifteen minutes," Blair reported back. 

Jim consulted his watch as he changed lanes. "That'll be about right. You're onto a good thing, Chief, the pair thing." 

Blair beamed brightly at Jim's words of praise. "Oh, wow, you really mean that, man?" He squeezed out a giggle at Jim's confirming nod. "How about Batman and Robin?" 

"I'm not the cape and tights type but thanks for the thought." 

"Robin Hood and Little John!" 

"What did I just say about tights?" 

"Wolverine and Cyclops?" 

"Yellow is not my color and I don't do spandex either. Look, Chief, you were doing better with the real people." 

Blair pondered that for a few minutes. "We could do some kind of a Star Trek thing... or maybe not," he added, seeing Jim's expression. "What?" 

"Don't worry about it right now, we got three weeks to worry about it." 

Jim pulled into the parking lot of the Golden Wall, got their food, and then drove home chatting about what was for them normal conversation. The rest of the night passed fairly calmly, with the two friends sharing their dinner and then settling together into evening activities. 

"Let's watch a movie," Blair wheedled as Jim turned to ESPN. "For once, I'm all caught up. No papers, no grading... who knows when we'll be able to sit down like this and watch a movie together again?" 

Jim sighed as he flipped the cable box off and turned the VCR on. //A movie with you sounds great,// Jim thought to himself. "If you pick out another one of those comedies I'll kick your ass all the way down to the video store. See what we got here and if you don't like anything we'll go rent something." 

"Too cool!" Blair exclaimed as he got down on his hands and knees to look through the collection of videotapes. 

Jim gripped the remote tightly in his hand as Blair's ass moved under his jeans as he crawled around on the floor, sorting through videos. //God give me strength,// he thought to himself. "Well, Chief?" 

Blair's arm waved over his shoulder, waving the retrieved video at Jim's general direction. "Got it!" 

//About time.// "What did you end up with?" 

"Something with Sean Connery in it. Damn that man is fine--a fine actor," Blair said, catching himself before he said the rest of what he was really thinking. 

Jim snorted. "When I get to be his age, I sincerely hope I retain half of what he's got." 

//You got no worries there, Jim.// Blair stuck the tape into the VCR and sat on the couch beside Jim. Jim slung his arm over the back of the couch, and without thinking, Blair slid over. Jim was well aware of how close his Guide was; he could feel the ends of Blair's hair brushing against his fingertips--but said nothing as the movie started. "The Untouchables? I thought you hated this movie," Jim said, resisting the urge to play with Blair's hair. "I thought you hated the ending." 

"No, I love the movie. I hate that Sean Connery and the IRS guy get killed. Capone is always fascinating because he is a prime example of the transposition of good and evil, depending on the situation! Prohibition had come in, people wanted to drink, the government--usually the good guys--was telling them they couldn't do it, and Capone--part of the bad Gangland set--was providing a service that people wanted! Capone was--" 

"A crook, a fraud, and a cold blooded killer," interrupted Jim. "Don't romanticize a gangster. Now be quiet and watch the movie." 

Blair was quiet until something rolled by in the credits. "I never realized Armani did the costuming." 

//Watching with Blair is like watching with a two year old!// "Yes, Armani did the costuming." 

Blair was actually quiet until Nitty's first appearance in the film. "Jim! That's it! That's what we can dress up as! Al Capone and his right hand man Frank Nitty!" 

"Oh, right, a cop dressing up as a Gangland assassin of cops and government agents? That'd go over REAL well at a Police Costume Ball." 

"Well, how about Capone and Eliot Ness then?" Blair asked. 

"You mean for you to dress up as Al Capone and me to dress up as Eliot Ness?" 

"Sure, why not? I know your sources can get you a Treasury badge, just for the night of the party! C'mon, Jim, you look snazzy in suits anyway, all you have to do is get a suit that comes from the time period--like a zoot suit, and I've got an aunt here in town that does alterations, I bet she could cut one of Grampa Jack's suits to fit you--he actually used to work for the government locally during that time! AND if we go to the storage facility where I've got all the rest of my stuff stashed at, I've got one of his zoot suits already there that will fit me, and it's pinstriped and everything! I'll wear your spare holster, we'll be the talk of the party!" 

"Right. We go as good guy bad guy. The more I think about that the less I like it." 

"What, you want to go back to Capone and Nitty?" 

"No, if you're so hung up on this movie, how about Ness and Malone? I'm old enough to be Malone and Lord knows I've got the experience." 

"You're saying you want me to be Eliot Ness and you be James Malone." 

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm saying," Jim said. 

"That's even better!" exploded the Guide. "I know of this cool site on the web that you can order the outfit from cause all Grampa had were the suits, and not the real clothes, at least that we saved, you can rent it over the net for one night and then my aunt can help you alter it! Man this is going to be so great!" 

Jim considered that. //It isn't the worst idea in the world and at least you won't have to wear a mask.// "All right, Chief, all right! Breathe, we'll do it! I got Saturday off, we'll call your aunt and see what we can get going on it." 

"All right! Man, you'll look fabulous! You won't regret this!" 

"Famous last words, Chief... famous last words." 

* * *

The next morning at work, Simon was mystified by the fact that Jim and Blair seemed to have their heads together whispering at every opportunity. Finally, at lunchtime, he couldn't stand it any longer. "Sandburg! My office. Ellison! Is your name Sandburg too?" 

"No, Sir." 

"Then I didn't call you, did I?" 

"Yes, sir, you did." 

"Jim...." 

"Aye sir." Jim sighed and sat back down behind the desk as Simon ushered Blair in. He didn't _think_ there was anything going on between Blair and Simon, but the sour fire rose in his stomach anyway as he listened in. 

"All right, Sandburg, spill it." 

"Spill what, sir?" 

"Whatever it is that's got you and Ellison putting your heads together like you're plotting to overthrow Castro!" 

"Oh, that, well, uh, sir, we were just discussing the costumes for the Police Officer's Halloween Ball." 

"Uh huh. Now tell me the truth." 

"Sir, that is the truth. Total, complete, and unadulterated." 

<snort> "Yeah, right. You mean to tell me you got Ellison, Mr. _I Hate Costume Parties_ to pick a costume?" 

"That's exactly what I'm telling you, sir." 

"I see. And would you mind telling me what this costume is, exactly?" 

"Mine or his?" 

"Oh, his, please, I'm not sure I want to know what yours is going to be." 

"Well, they, uh, they go together sir." 

"Wait wait wait. You mean to tell me that you've got a costume deal that you're sharing WITH Ellison? This I gotta hear." 

"You'll love this, Simon. I'm going to be Eliot Ness and he's going to be James Malone." 

"You mean that guy from the Sean Connery movie?" 

"That's the one." 

<gusty sigh> "Get out of here, Sandburg... you're giving me a headache." 

"But sir... you asked." 

"Out!" 

Jim shuffled the stack of papers on his desk to cover his growl. He didn't like the way Simon grilled Blair. But by the time Blair got back over to the desk, Jim had himself under control. "So what was all that, Chief?" 

"Oh, that. Uh, just a few questions, that's all. Making sure I knew to behave myself at the Policeman's Ball, all that stuff." 

"Right." Jim's voice was heavy with disbelief. "And do you?" 

"What, know how to behave? C'mon, Jim, it's me, what do you think?" 

"I think--" 

"Don't answer that," Blair interrupted. 

Jim's answering smile was angelic, but his words were anything but. 

* * *

"There! Done!" 

The smell of pumpkin filled the loft, and the _plop_ of guts and seeds into a bowl for separation, spicing, drying and snacking sounded vaguely human. 

"Are you sure I should be giving you this knife?" Jim joked as he passed it handle-first to the Guide. 

"No, you shouldn't be, I'm not allowed to play with sharp objects." Blair sighed. "Go sit in the living room, Jim, your sighs are messing up my concentration." 

"Well excuse me, Mr. Artiste." Jim sat himself down on the couch and flipped his newspaper open, snapping it several times and clearing his throat. 

Blair tried to carve, but every time he put knife to pumpkin, noise from the living room would startle him. "Jim! Could you be any more childish!" 

"I am not being childish! I am merely sitting in here and reading my newspaper!" 

"I see. Why don't you try reading the newspaper upstairs?" 

"Fine. I'll go upstairs." Jim snitted up the stairs, and turned on the radio. He pumped up the volume, and heard Blair curse. 

"Dammit, Jim, turn that down! I almost jumped out of my damn skin, and I know you don't need it that loud with those ears!" 

"Fine!" grumbled Jim as he turned the volume down. He would not admit to himself that he was being petty because Blair had told him to go away. He was above such things. 

There was a brief pause, and then footsteps came up the stairs. "Here you go, Jim. Take the car keys. Take the cell phone. Go for a drive. Catch a movie. But don't come home until I call you!" 

"You can't throw me out of my own loft!" 

"Out, Jim! I need QUIET to concentrate!" 

"Fine!" Jim grabbed his leather jacket and checked the pocket for the cell phone. He slipped his wallet into his left hip pocket, and took the keys out of Blair's hands. He loped down the stairs two at a time, and slammed the door behind him. 

"Finally!" Blair put the new pumpkin aside and pulled out the one they'd bought the day before. Blair had protested they'd needed a slightly bigger one, and Jim had bought him a bigger one for the bay window. The smaller one, however, Blair intended to keep in his own room. On one side he'd carved out a Cascade PD badge; on the other side, a relief portrait of Jim's face. He could just imagine Jim's response to that one, and so had kept it hidden until the Sentinel was gone. He put the finishing touches on the badge, and then carried it into his bedroom. "Perfect!" He returned to the new pumpkin, and started carving. After about forty five minutes, the phone rang. "Hello?" 

"Hey, Chief." 

"No you can't come home yet." 

"It's cold out here!" 

"You took a jacket." 

"You shouldn't be home alone." 

"Jim, it's Friday night. Everyone but you and me are at the movies or getting laid. I'll call you when I'm done. Goodbye." Blair hung up on Jim, and sighed. //What is _with_ him tonight!// 

Jim growled as Blair hung up on him. //I don't want to be driving around out here, Chief, I want to be home with you!// He shoved the cell phone into his pocket and pulled into the station parking deck, which he'd been circling for the last half hour. He bulled his way through the front and the elevator, and cleared out the hallways with his scowl as he marched into Major Crimes and threw himself behind his desk. 

Simon looked out through the blinds of his office. //Uh oh,// he thought to himself. //There is trouble at Prospect Place.// Pasting a smile on his tired face, Simon walked out and greeted Jim. "What you doing here, Ellison, I thought you went home." 

"I did sir, Blair kicked me out." 

Simon scratched his head. "Blair... kicked YOU out?" 

"Yeah, said I was being childish! All I was doing is trying to read the damn newspaper while he was trying to carve his damn pumpkin!" 

Somehow Simon knew that laughter would most certainly not be appropriate at the moment, and yet, he felt it bubbling up inside. "Carve a pumpkin?" 

"Yeah, he got some damn idea about doing up Halloween and he wanted to carve a damn jack-o-lantern. I had to buy two pumpkins before he was satisfied!!" 

"You. Bought. Two. Pumpkins. For Sandburg?" The laughter was no longer bubbling up but flooding, and the captain was having a hell of a time keeping his face straight. 

"Yes! The first one was too small or some crap like that so I had to go out and buy him another pumpkin." Jim was shocked when his usually sedate captain broke out into gales of laughter. "Captain?" 

Simon harrumphed several times, clearing his throat. "Jim... you agreed to dress up as Sean Connery--which isn't a bad choice, believe me--and then you went out and bought the kid two pumpkins to carve, threw a splendid fit of jealousy this morning that I didn't miss by the way, and then you let the kid throw you out of your own house?" He could see that Jim wasn't making the connection on his own. "So how long have you been in love with him, Jim?" 

Jim looked up, blinking owlishly at the captain. "What do you mean, how long have I been in love with him?" 

Simon sighed. //This is going to take a while.// He pulled up a chair from Brown's desk and straddled it so that he was facing Jim. "Jim, let's go through this slowly. Did you ever buy pumpkins for Carolyn?" 

"No." 

"Did she ask?" 

"Yes." 

"Good! Now, why did you say no?" 

"Because the smell made me sick." 

"And it doesn't now?" 

"Well, yeah, a little bit, but I can stand it." 

"Right. Okay. When you and Carolyn were fighting, did you ever let her kick you out of the house?" 

"Of course not!" 

"Right, and why is that?" 

"Nobody is kicking me out of my own home, Simon, I don't care who they are!" 

"Nobody except Blair, you mean," Simon reminded gently. 

"Shit." 

"You mean you didn't know." 

"Yes." 

"Yes you knew, or yes you didn't know!" 

"No I didn't know!" Jim dropped his hands onto the armrests of the chair. "Shit." 

"Face it, Sandburg is under your skin. For whatever reason known only to you, you're in love with him and if he hasn't seen it, then you need to tell him." 

Jim deflated. "I can't. You know how the kid is with women, got his own personal harem at his beck and call. Never seen him with guy, never even got the feeling he might swing that way. Can't risk it, Simon, I don't know what I'd do without him, and I mean that on several levels." 

Simon snorted. "Not to offend you my friend, never thought you did either. You've had your own fair share of the fairer sex." 

Jim sighed. "My father... let's just say he thought it was a well kept secret but after my mother left... half the business trips he went on he came back smelling like another man." 

Simon tried to digest that one. He couldn't. "Well." 

"Well. Nobody ever said anything around the house and I never grew up with the prejudices against it. Pops just said, let people do what they want to do in the privacy of their own bedrooms." 

"So that explains why you don't have a problem with it." 

"Yeah, well, just call me Mr. Liberal." 

Simon put his hand on Jim's shoulder. "You want to talk liberal, Jim? Think about the kid. He chews peyote when he gets sick. He runs around wearing pajamas. He was raised by Naomi, for Christ's sake. And Jim? Have you noticed the way he looks at you?" 

"Like what?" 

Simon sighed. //Dense as a fence post.// "Never mind, Jim. You'll figure it out. I'm not going to tell him anything. Just... think about telling him, okay?" 

Jim opened his mouth to agree and he rang. He reached for his cell phone as he nodded at Simon. "Ellison." 

"You can come home now, Jim." 

"Gee, thanks, Chief." 

"You're welcome. I'll be waiting." 

Jim hung up to find Simon looking at him. "Safe to go home now?" 

"So he says," Jim said, holding up the cell phone before putting it back in his pocket. "I'm going to go home to find pumpkin innards spread all over the kitchen, newspapers piled on the floor in front of the trash, and a loft that smells like burnt pumpkin seeds. I don't call that safe." 

"Jim, go home. Drive safely." 

"See you Monday, sir." Jim got up and made his way back down to the lobby, over to the parking deck, and back to his car. Despite the traffic, Jim made it home in record time, and as he climbed up the three flights of stairs, the scent of cinnamon toasting came to him, and grew pleasantly stronger as he reached his door. He unlocked the door and slipped inside, the warm wafting odors wrapping around him. "Chief?" He looked around the loft. The newspapers were all thrown away in a garbage bag and knotted at the top, ready for the garbage chute. The strings were in a smaller bag from the grocery store, knotted up and waiting to be thrown out. There was a bowl on the dining table with warm seeds in it, and the table was clean. The cinnamon scent was strong near the stove, but also in the living room, and he moved to the window, and the jack-o-lantern. A lightly scented cinnamon candle burned in the pumpkin, and Jim turned it around to admire the carving. 

"Like it? A cousin taught me how to carve one summer for the fall Fair... took second place." 

Jim jumped as Blair came up behind him. "You startled me." 

"You drove like a bat out of hell," Blair countered. "You okay? I never startle you." 

"Yeah, I'm fine, I was just looking at the pumpkin, not paying attention." 

"You like it?" Blair asked, half fearful that he wouldn't. 

"It's great," Jim admitted, and then he sat down on the couch as Blair turned the face back towards the window. //Love, huh? That's what they call it.// 

"Where'd you go?" 

"Work." 

"Don't suppose you attacked that mountain of paper on your desk?" 

"Nope, that's your job. I griped to Simon about how my roomie kicked me out on the streets." 

"Oh, poor widdle Jimmy." Blair sat down beside Jim. "Called my aunt and got an appointment with her, and she's pulling out the suits and stuff just in case there's anything in there you can use." 

"Great," he grumped. "I hate costume parties, but at least I'm not going to look like an idiot." 

"You never look like an idiot, Jim." 

"Really?" 

"Really," Blair confirmed, then went back out to the kitchen to check his toasting seeds. "You ought to try these," he called. "They're dusted with cinnamon and sugar." 

"Not a bird, Chief, but thanks for the offer." Blair's laughter at Jim's comment was warm as rain started to plink against the window. 

* * *

Saturday morning came and Blair woke up to Jim banging around downstairs. Pots slammed in the cabinets, kettle slammed onto the burner, and mugs slammed down onto the counter. He threw the curtain back. Jim was awake, fully dressed, and wearing his gun, which was strange for--Blair consulted the clock--five AM. "Jim? What's going on out here?" He rubbed his eyes as he walked into the kitchen. 

"Nothing, Chief. Go back to sleep. I didn't mean to wake you up." 

"Right. Jim, why are you up and dressed and wearing your gun at five AM in the morning?" 

"Couldn't sleep." 

"Right." 

"It's true!" 

"Never said it wasn't, what's with the slamming stuff around?" 

"Nothing." 

"Right." Blair kept staring at Jim. 

"What?" 

"Nothing." 

"Blair!" 

"Jim!" Blair was getting exasperated. 

"Chief, nothing!" 

"Fine!" 

"Fine!" Jim saw his Guide's arms cross over his chest and saw a serious pout about to take root and wanted to hug the pout away. "Blair." 

"What?" 

"I couldn't sleep." 

"You said that already." 

"That's it. Was pissed off that I couldn't sleep." //Pissed off that now, thanks to Simon, I now want something I know that I can't have.// 

Blair regarded him suspiciously. "So why the gun?" 

"Malone carried a gun. It's not like I'm going to have a costume fit without it." 

"It's a little bit early for that, Jim." 

"It's never too early for guns," he said smiling and passing a coffee cup over to Blair. "Coffee?" 

"I'll never get back to sleep if I do, but then again, I'm awake already." Blair reached out and took the ceramic mug. He sipped the strong coffee that Jim had made and that woke him up the rest of the way. "Jim, we don't have to be there until ten. What do you propose to do for the next four hours?" 

"Four hours?" 

"Yeah, it's an hour drive. So that leaves us four hours to fill." //Four nice, long hours that could be filled with long bouts of totally wild and passionate sex followed by declarations of undying love...// 

Jim was having much the same thoughts. //Four hours of unrestrained lovemaking until neither of us can stand much less walk...// Unfortunately, he couldn't suggest that to Blair. "Poker?" 

//Strip poker can be fun too.// "Okay, how about--" 

"No, not strip poker." //No way, Chief, it's hard enough not to jump you as it is, the last thing I need to see is your bare body.// "Real poker." 

//I can dream,// Blair sighed. "I've never been much of a poker player, Jim, besides, I don't have that much money." 

"Who says we're playing for money? The winner gets to carry the real gun to the costume party." 

"Eww. You can have it, man, I'll be happy with my imitation water pistol, thanks." 

"So what do you want the stakes to be, Chief?" 

"um... We can use the pumpkin seeds instead of money and the winner gets...." 

"Breakfast in bed served by the loser?" 

"All right! Deal!" Blair plopped down at the table as Jim hunted up a deck of cards. Blair counted out fifty seeds for each of them. "So who deals?" 

"Me," Jim said. He dealt out five cards to himself and five to Blair. "One draw per ante. No wild cards, open with five." He dropped five seeds into the bowl as he looked at his cards and discarded two, pulling out two more and ending up with two pairs, two kings and two jacks. 

Blair hmmed over his cards. "I'll see that five, and raise you five more," he said, dropping the seeds into the bowl. He didn't take any cards, and his face was expressionless. 

"I'll see five, and go... eight more." 

* * *

By the end of four hours and six hands, Jim and Blair had both won and lost fairly steadily, they both had fifty seeds in fact, and were playing a round of blackjack to see who got the breakfast in bed. Jim was dealer, showing a 5 and a 4, and Blair had eighteen. Blair stood on his eighteen, and smugly Jim flipped over his hole card; an ace. 20. "Looks like I get breakfast in bed, Chief. And it's time for us to go." 

Blair snorted. "You cheated just to get curb service." 

"Did not. You saw me shuffle and deal. I won fair and square, and I want sausage, eggs, juice, toast, and coffee." 

Blair grabbed his jacket. "All right, all right, you win. Breakfast in bed tomorrow morning." 

* * *

The costume fitting went well, and Jim carried a bundle home in the back of the truck. It had happened that one of Blair's grandfather's suits fit him with just a little bit of alteration in the shoulders, waist, and crotch, and he was pleased with the look, including the gold pocket watch chain. They had been able to wait, have lunch, and Blair had dragged Jim all around the little shops on the square as his aunt had quickly made the alterations, and it was late that evening when they got home. The phone was ringing as they walked in the door, and Jim sprinted to answer it. "Ellison." 

"Simon. Did you tell him?" 

"No." 

"Are you going to?" 

"No." 

"Why not?" 

"Not a good time." 

"He's standing there, isn't he?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"Jim and Blair sitting in the tree, kiss--" 

"Thank you for the thought, captain," Jim growled, cutting him off mid-song. "The costume fitting went just fine." 

"Glad to hear it! Which is actually why I called, all joking aside. Due to the Mayor's scheduling conflict, the party's been moved up. It's next weekend." 

"Oh, just fucking wonderful," Jim grumped. "May I ask what you're going as, Sir? So I know who to kill?" 

"Oh, you won't be able to miss me. Or Conner." 

"You're going with Conner, sir?" Jim said, snapping his fingers for Blair's attention. _He's going with Conner!_ he mouthed at Blair. 

_MEGAN?_ Blair mouthed back. 

"Yes, Conner," Simon said, with a smile. "She's a hell of a lady, Jim... you'd love her." 

"Not likely, sir." 

"I see your point. Anyway, you won't be able to miss either one of us. Look for Crocodile Dundee. And his chauffeur." 

_CROCODILE DUNDEE!_ Jim mouthed at Blair, and Blair went into convulsive giggles. "Crocodile Dundee, sir? Don't you think you're a bit tall for that?" 

"Oh, I'm not Dundee, Jim. Conner is." There was a long silence on the other end of the phone as Jim tried to absorb that. "Jim?" 

"Here, sir." 

"Rafe and Brown checked in too, they're doing the Mad Hatter/March Hare thing with their girlfriends... one's Alice and one's the Queen of Hearts, I think." 

"So let me get this straight, sir... Major Crimes is going to represented by four insane Looking-Glass people, two Prohibition-era crime-fighters, and a female Crocodile Dundee?" 

"Yeah, that about covers it. See you on Saturday... Malone." Simon hung up before Jim had a chance to react. 

"Chief, did you hear that?" 

"Yeah, I did. I can't believe Megan can pull off alligator skin!" 

"Not that. The ball's been moved up to accommodate the Mayor's schedule. It's next weekend," Jim told him gently. 

"Next weekend! C'mon, we got to get my suit out!" 

"Can't it wait?" 

"Jiiiiim," Blair cajoled. 

//If a women henpecks you, does another man cock peck you?// Jim couldn't believe it. "Okay okay okay... let's go get your suit out of storage. It can be airing out." 

"Let's go!" Blair danced impatiently by the door as Jim picked his keys back up and put on his jacket. "Slowpoke, light a fire under it!" 

"Coming, dear," Jim said sarcastically. 

//He called me dear! Of course he didn't _mean_ it but hey, I'll take what I can get!// "You'll love this suit, man." 

"I'm sure I will," Jim said, locking the door behind him. "Where, exactly, is it?" 

"Oh, I don't know, some of my boxes." 

"Chief, you've got sixteen boxes!" 

"Eighteen, I added two more a few weeks ago." 

"We're going to have to go through eighteen boxes to find this suit?" 

"Yeah, but don't worry. It's in a plastic suit bag with shoes and everything." 

"Oh, that just relieves me no end," Jim said as he got into the car. "Why don't you take a notebook and pen and number your boxes and write down all the stuff in each box so the next time you have to find something, you don't have to go and hunt like this, hmm?" 

"Oh, are you kidding? That would take forever, man." 

"And this won't?" 

"Nah, not at all. We just gotta go through the boxes until we find what we need." 

"We are having an intense communications failure here, Chief." 

"Why, because I'm not catalogued and cross-referenced for easy indexing? I'm not a type A like you, Jim." 

"You think I'm a type A?" 

"Might as well brand it on your chest, man. Big ol' red A. For Anal Retentive." Blair sketched an A in the air with his hands for emphasis. 

"Just because I'm well organized does not make me anal retentive!" 

"Jim, you have a fit if I stack the blue towels beside the red towels instead of the white towels!" 

"Do not." 

"Do too." 

"Do not." 

"You do too! You also have a stroke when I leave my food in the fridge uncovered and God forbid you should step on a wet towel out of the shower!" 

"That's why the Tupperware has lids and the hamper is in the bathroom for a reason!" 

"My point exactly!" 

"Chief!" 

"Sorry!" Blair crossed his arms over his chest and smirked at Jim. "You're AR, Jim, get over it." 

"Am not. Look, here we are." 

"Are too." Blair jumped out of the truck as Jim parked, getting in the last word for a change. 

* * *

"Blair, if it's not in this box, it's not in any of them. We've gone through the other seventeen piece by piece." 

"Then it's got to be in this one." 

"For your sake I hope it is." 

"Outta the way." Blair ripped the packing tape off the box, and yelped in victory as he withdrew the clear plastic bag. "Told you so, Mr. Negative." He dove back into the box and came out with two shoeboxes. He laid the suit across Jim's arms, and then piled the two shoeboxes on top of it, and then yelped again. "Fuck a duck, I forgot I had this!" He pulled out a chrome plated revolver. "Perfect!" 

"Shit, Chief, is that thing real?" 

"Sure is. But it's not loaded, see?" Blair dropped the clip out to show Jim it was empty. "But I can still carry it and make the suit look nifty." 

"Nifty? I don't even want to know." Jim sighed as Blair tossed the gun and the holster onto the stack in Jim's arms and then went back to digging in the box. 

"Oh, man, I love Naomi!" came muffled out of the box as one hand waved a slightly beaten fedora at Jim. "This'll go great with my outfit and for yours... Grampa's watch cap... corduroy of course." He threw the two hats on the growing pile Jim was holding and dove back in once again. The last thing he came up with was a piece of silver jewelry. "Here, this is Grampa's St. Jude medallion. Since Malone had the medallion, I think you should wear it, Jim." 

Jim accepted the antique with great care, all amusement gone. "Chief, this is family history, here, I'm not sure--" 

"I am, Jim. You're the cop in my family, you're the one who should be wearing it, costume or not." Blair looked up at Jim seriously. "I mean that." 

"I... thank you, Blair." Jim put the suit and boxes and hats down and carefully draped the silver chain around his neck, under his shirt. He looked at Blair, and his blue eyes were lightly silvering over with tears, and Jim hugged him hard. Blair's arms came around Jim's waist, and they stayed that way for a few minutes, until Blair sniffled and pushed him away. "You okay?" Jim asked, looking him over. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just... I had forgotten that was in there, Jim... Grampa gave it to me in his will because I always liked playing with it, he said, when I was a little kid. Naomi held onto it for me until I was old enough, and then gave it to me, but by the time she did... I didn't remember Grampa all that well. Just a face I know more from pictures than anything else. There's a letter somewhere in Mom's stuff that said he knew I'd be a cop someday, and St. Jude would watch over me too. But you're the cop in the family, now, Jim, so it's yours." 

"I'm honored, Blair, that you think of me as part of your family and I promise you, I will take care of it." 

"I know you will, man." He dashed his eyes with the sleeve of the coat. "Come on, let's get going. We gotta get back home so we can both work tomorrow." 

Jim nodded and slung the suit bag over his shoulder, and perched hats on his head and Blair's. "What's in the shoeboxes?" 

"Shoes, of course," Blair said, opening the lids to show Jim two pair of black and white spats. 

"Nice." 

Yeah, I'll have 'em spit shined so you can see your reflection in them." 

When they got home, Jim pulled an envelope out of the cabinet and tossed it to Blair. "Here you go, Chief, a present for you." 

Blair opened the envelope, and shook out an old brass badge. "Jim... this is...." 

"Yeah, I know. When you mentioned Grampa Jack earlier I had them look him up and see if his badge was still in existence; it was. So I had them send it to me. I was going to hold it for your birthday but you can wear it with your costume...oof!" Jim was actually knocked back a step by Blair's enthusiastic hug. "Blair?" 

"Thank you, Jim, thank you! You don't know what this means to me!" He turned the badge over and over in his hands until the back caught his eye, inscripted with Jack Sandburg's name and dates of service. He hugged Jim again. 

Jim let his arms rest around Blair. //Man you feel good, Chief.// "Blair... hey, man, I didn't get it to make you cry, you know." 

"I know, it just means a lot to me, that's all." 

Jim didn't bother wondering why Blair wasn't letting go, he just held tightly, lightly stroking Blair's back and hair. 

* * *

It was Wednesday already, and Jim could literally smell the excitement on his young Guide. He kept his usual gruff exterior but Blair's excitement was beginning to wear off on him. 

"Jim, do you--?" 

"No, I don't need a drink or a snack." 

"Can I--?" 

"No, you can't get anything for me." 

"Will you--?" 

"No I won't find something for you to do. Sit there and be quiet." 

"But Jiiiiim!" 

"No buts!" 

"But--" 

"No!" 

"Grouch." Blair crossed his arms over his chest and started to pout. 

"I am not a grouch." 

"You're a crotchety old codger." 

"I am not." 

"You are too." 

"Am not." 

"Are too." 

"Children, _please,_ " interrupted Simon. 

"Sorry," they both chorused, and Blair turned back to face Jim over the desk. 

Jim was ignoring him, and Blair delivered a swift kick to Jim's shin. Jim didn't react but kicked Blair back. "Ow!" 

"You started it," Jim hissed. 

"You didn't have to kick me back!" 

"You didn't have to kick me first." 

"Jiiim!" 

"Blaaaaaair," he mimicked. 

Simon's shadow fell over Jim's desk. "Children, if I have to talk to you again, I'm sending you to a time out." 

"Yes, Sir." 

"Yes, Simon." 

Jim went back to his paperwork and Blair sat quietly for all of thirty seconds before snitching a sheet of paper out of the trash and starting to shred it. Jim reached out and snagged the paper without looking and put it back in the trash, and Blair threw the small shreds onto him like confetti. Jim tossed his pencil down. "Why don't you go downstairs to the juice cart and get some OJ and a smoothie huh?" 

"Yeah, great idea man!" Blair bolted out of his chair, and moments later Simon took it. 

"Kid getting on your nerves?" 

"You don't know the half of it, Sir. He's enthusiastic, he can't wait for the party, and I'm ready to hit him with a trank gun just so I can get some work done here!" Jim gestured at the large stack of reports to be filled out, signed, and filed. 

"Send him home." 

"There wouldn't be anything left with the kid in this state." 

"You could always..." Simon let that trail off. 

Jim glared. "Like I hadn't already thought of that." 

"Hey, if I see him under your desk, I will look the other way," sniggered the captain. 

"You're not helping, Captain," Jim said, massaging the bridge of his nose. 

"You mean to tell me you're not the least bit excited about this?" 

"Do I look excited, Sir?" 

Simon laughed. "No you don't, but I know you, Jim. Spend another day or two with the kid, and he will get you excited." 

"In ways you don't even want to think about," Jim admitted. 

"Hey, Jim, you know that saying, too much information?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"You just gave me too much." 

"Sorry sir. But you brought it up." 

"No, Blair brought it up." 

"Har de fucking har." 

"You have _no_ sense of humor, Jim." 

"I do too." 

"You do not." 

"Now don't you start, Sir." 

"Sorry." 

"Yeah, I know you are." 

"Smartass." 

"Not me, sir." 

* * *

By Friday morning, Jim couldn't keep the smile off his face any longer. Blair was constantly bouncing, Simon was grinning, Megan was hunting around for a whetstone, and Rafe was mulling the color difference between purple and mulberry, and if it would really be worth the hassle of carrying a tea tray. Brown just put his head down on his desk and mumbled about a headache. 

The crime in the city seemed to be cooperating with them, because there were remarkably few calls for a Friday, and nobody complained. "All right, all right, listen up!" Simon was standing at his office door, and everyone looked up. "Now, I can't let my whole police department go, but you guys can cut out early, and get your last minute stuff done for the costume ball. I expect to see all of you there... that means you too, Ellison." Nods and snickers moved around the room, because between Jim, Blair, and Simon, the detective's costume had stayed under tight wraps as had Blair's. "So shoo. Conner, can I see you in my office?" 

Everyone shooed. 

* * *

"Chief, it's 11:47 at night. If you don't stop vibrating like a pinball in there, I'm going to put your lights out." 

"Jiiiiim, I lost that bag I brought home the other day!" The sound of muffled thuds were not reassuring the Sentinel. 

"You mean the one you wouldn't let me see?" 

"Yeah, that's the one." 

"Look under your pillow; that's usually where you stash stuff." Jim could hear the pillows sailing through the air and a muffled yelp of victory. "Find it, Chief?" 

"Got it!" he sang out. Blair darted out of the room, grabbed Jim's keys, and disappeared out the door before Jim could stop him. 

Jim tuned in his hearing and listened to Blair unlock the door, then slam it and lock it back. Jim guessed he'd stowed the bag in the truck. He listened as Blair pounded back up the stairs, and then slammed the door. "Nice night for a walk, huh?" 

"Nah, just had to stash something for tomorrow night. G'night, Jim." 

"Night, Sandburg. Sweet dreams." 

* * *

Jim stood in front of the full length mirror Blair had leaning against the wall. He had to admit, he looked snazzy. The silver chain that held the St. Jude medallion sparkled in the light--Blair had taken it to be cleaned and surprised Jim with a sparkling chain and medallion--and his gun was barely noticeable. His Cascade PD badge was shined and shimmering in the lamplight as Blair adjusted his lapels. "You look great, Chief." 

"You too, man. Grampa Jack would be proud." Blair reached up and adjusted Jim's collar and watch cap. "You remember your dials, man?" 

"Of course." 

"And our code phrase if something goes wrong and you get overwhelmed?" 

"Dear heart." 

"Great, man, you got it!" Blair thumped Jim's shoulder lightly. "C'mon, let's go, we'll get there just in time." 

* * *

Jim and Blair walked into the ball and headed towards the knot of Major Crime people. Megan--dressed up as Crocodile Dundee--elbowed Simon who kicked Rafe who grabbed Brown's arm. Everyone clapped and whistled as Jim and Blair walked over towards them, spit shined from spat to badge. "Mr. Ness, I presume," Simon said with a bow. 

"At your service. Gentlemen, ladies, please... let me introduce Jim Malone, my second in command." 

"A pleasure," Jim said with a bow. 

"Hey, how come he gets to keep his name?" H complained. He reached up to scratch under his rabbit ears, and straightened his shoulders. Rafe slapped down his hands, and Simon exchanged an eye roll with Megan. 

"Because I'm the best, that's why," Jim laughed. Music started, and people from other divisions started dancing. 

The Major Crimes knot stayed together until Megan swilled down her first drink, and then slapped Blair around the shoulder. "Come on, Sandy, let's you and me dance." 

Simon watched speculatively, pushing his chauffeur's cap back on his head as Blair flashed a look at Jim and then followed Megan onto the dance floor. Henri and Rafe collected their respective dates and moved out onto the floor too, changing partners halfway through the song, ending up the Mad Hatter and March Hare dancing together and leaving Alice and the Queen of Hearts together. "I tell you, Jim, there's just something in the water," he laughed softly. 

"You mean they're?" 

"Yep, and so are the girls." 

Jim rolled his eyes. "Just what I need." 

"Jim, seriously. Tell him. Before you both explode." 

"Both, sir?" 

"Jim, he loves you too, haven't you seen it? Even Conner's seen it, she asked me if you and Sandburg were _with it_ yet. Told her no." 

Jim growled. "So she thinks what, it's open season on my Guide? Excuse me Sir." 

"Jim--" Simon called out, but it was no use. Jim had eyes and ears only for his Guide. 

Jim stalked up to Megan and Blair, and tapped Megan rather forcefully on the shoulder. "Excuse me, but I am cutting in." 

"Hey, no problem, man," Blair said, ducking out. 

Jim's arm shot out and wrapped a steely hand around Blair's wrist. "I wasn't talking to you," he said to Blair, glaring at Megan. 

"Oh, well, I'll just go and see if Simon wants to dance," Megan said, dipping out quickly. 

"Good idea." Jim pulled Blair into classic ballroom dance position, but his grip was anything but gentlemanly. 

"Jim?" 

"Shut up and dance, Sandburg." 

Blair shut his mouth and did as Jim told him, and slowly Jim's grip turned from steel to velvet. "Jim--" 

"Shut _up,_ Blair," Jim said quietly, but firmly. "If you don't shut up, I'm going to kiss you." 

"You say that like it's--" The rest of Blair's sentence was cut off by Jim's mouth swallowing his words. The kiss was deep, but short, and was broken off to the sound of whistles, cheers, and catcalls from the Major Crimes unit. "--a bad thing," he finished in a whisper. 

"We're leaving." 

"We just got here." 

"We need to talk." 

"Oh. Okay." Blair didn't argue anymore as Jim pulled him out of the main ballroom and up the stairs of the main hallway. The second floor was deserted, and Jim pulled Blair into the empty lounge. "Jim?" 

"What the hell was up with you and Conner?" 

"What do you mean, what the hell is up with me and Conner?" 

"What do you think I mean?" 

"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking!" Blair let his arms drop. "What's with you, Jim?" 

"What's with me? Let's see, Chief, you tell me that I'm part of your family, you touch me and let me think that there might be something between us and then you sashay your ass out on that dance floor with Megan Conner!" 

"Jim, she dragged me out there, what am I supposed to do!" 

"How about telling her, no thanks, I'm here with Jim?" he demanded. He started pacing, or would be pacing if Blair hadn't jumped up and blocked his path. "What!" 

"Jim! Get a grip on yourself, man! If I'd known you felt this way I would have turned her down! I love you, man, but if you don't tell me these things, I can't read your mind!" 

Jim grabbed Blair's shoulders. "What did you just say?" 

"I said I love you too." 

"You... oh God Blair!" Jim pulled Blair tightly against him, burying his face in his Guide's hair. "I love you, Blair." 

Blair laughed softly. "I think I just figured that out, big guy." He hugged Jim back fiercely. "Wait here, I got something for you. I'll be right back, then we can go back to the party, okay? Give me your keys." 

"Okay," Jim said quietly, passing over his keys with a satiated smirk on his face. Blair could have asked for a trip to Mars and a slice of the moon and Jim would have given it to him. //Blair loves me.// He waited contently as Blair went to the truck and came back with a small green bag. 

"Okay. I was going to wait until later tonight to give you this, but I think I want to do it now. Keep in mind I had no idea this was going to happen, and I know it's really weird, but here. I got this the other day and wanted to surprise you with it... figured it would help get you in the mood for Halloween." He reached into the bag and pulled out a teddy bear, with a jack-o-lantern for the body and brown curly fur. 

Jim took the teddy bear and smiled, then kissed Blair's palm as he did. "Thank you." 

"You're welcome. You like him?" 

"Yeah... Yeah, I do... he reminds me of someone else I know," he said, tugging one of Blair's curls. "Does he have a name?" 

"Nope, that's up to you." 

"Osborne. Osborne Sandburg Ellison." Jim slipped the newly-named Osborne into the pocket of his jacket, and only the head remained popped out. "Come on, Eliot, let's get back to the party." He slipped his hand into Blair's lacing their fingers together. "Did you wear that gun?" 

Blair grinned. "Yeah, I did, can't you see it?" 

Jim inspected him. "No. As soon as we get home, I'm going to have to search you." 

"A strip search?" 

"Of course." 

"Body cavity search?" 

Jim growled as he nuzzled Blair's throat. "There's only one of your body cavities that I want to explore and I've got just the tool for exploration." 

* * *

Simon was the first to notice Jim and Blair coming back into the ballroom, and the nudges, whispers, laughs, and elbows went around the group. Joel had joined them--dressed as a Calvary soldier--in the interim, and Simon had filled him in. 

"Ooh, Joel, you went with the Buffalo soldier look!" Blair exclaimed as the older man approached them. 

"Yeah, I did, I took your suggestion." He looked at Jim. "Is that a bear in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" 

Jim flushed and Blair giggled. "Hey, did you know the Buffalo soldiers were created back in 1866?" 

"Um, no, I didn't," Joel said, as Blair draped an arm around his shoulder. 

"Yep, they were created as army regiments but when the Calvary was created, they were absorbed into the Calvary. The Native Americans were the ones who started calling them Buffalo soldiers because of their dark coloring and their hair that resembled that of the buffalo, their sacred animal." 

"Blair, lighten up with the history lecture, man! This is a party!" Joel said, laughing. 

"I know, it's just..." 

"We know!" chorused everyone. 

"Did you know that--" 

Whatever pearl of wisdom Blair was going to impart was silenced by Jim's kiss. "Sandburg, shut up and dance." 

The End 

* * *

End Untouchable by Kel: dragonbane4@aol.com

Author and story notes above.

  
Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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